


Saving The Christmas Cookies

by EllanaSan



Series: Hayffie Advent Calendar 2020 [10]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Christmas, Christmas Cookies, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28045299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: “Itbetterbe an emergency!” she warned as she peered through the peephole. She made a face when she saw it was her rude neighbor. The one who she had found passed out drunk on her doormat once and who was always complaining she was making too much noise.
Relationships: Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket
Series: Hayffie Advent Calendar 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031940
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42
Collections: Hayffie Christmas Stories





	Saving The Christmas Cookies

**Author's Note:**

> I have a thing for neighbors hayffie so this was fun to write ;) Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Prompt We’re neighbors and I just got locked out of my apartment, I was baking cookies that will burn if I don’t get in there quick

“Yes, yes, I am coming!” Effie shouted despite the fact she abhorred raising her voice in her apartment. A lady should _never_ raise her voice in her home.

But the incessant frantic knocking at the door had pulled her out of her shower, a towel hastily wrapped around her chest and another balanced haphazardly on top of her head to avoid her hair dripping everywhere.

“It _better_ be an emergency!” she warned as she peered through the peephole. She made a face when she saw it was her rude neighbor. The one who she had found passed out drunk on her doormat once and who was always complaining she was making too much noise.

She hesitated only a fraction of second before unlocking the door.

For all his rudeness, his grumpiness and the fact he was much bigger than she was, he had never once made her feel unsafe in a way that would justify refusing to answer the door. On the contrary, the one time one of her dates had been a touch too handsy and she had been having troubles getting rid of him, he had stormed out of his apartment and put the fear of god into him. He had dismissed her thanks and advised her not to dress like a hooker if she didn’t want to be mistaken for one. She had slammed her door right back in his face with a remark about his poor hygiene. Still, though. It was the thought that counted and he _had_ helped her when needed.

“Is there a fire?” she deadpanned, once the door was open.

Whatever emergency he had been having, it couldn’t have been _that_ important because he stood there and gaped at her, his grey eyes roaming everywhere in a definitely _not_ polite way. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so confident about his respect for women because he was certainly ogling her now. To be fair though, she _was_ half naked and there were drops of water running down her neck from her damp hair despite the towel – she could feel it.

“What is it?” she insisted, making sure to keep the edge of irritation in her voice because she could feel herself responding to his heated stare and… That _wasn’t_ good. Not good _at all_. She was _not_ going there with a neighbor. Never mind a _rude_ one who indulged far too often. “Was my shower too loud by any chance?”

He _loved_ to complain about how loud she was. Her high heels, the music, the way she closed her door in the morning on her way to work, her voice… She had lost count.

He blinked and shook his head. “I need to use your fire escape.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “I beg your pardon?”

“Locked myself out.” he explained with an annoyed face.

“Call a locksmith.” she retorted, folding her arms in front of her chest.

It was very obvious he was finding her less than helpful. “Don’t have my phone.”

“I will lend you mine.” she countered. _Surely_ that was preferable to venturing on rickety metal stairs she had been complaining about since she had moved in because it looked like they were hanging by a _thread_.

“No time.” he grumbled. “I need to get in there _now_.”

She pursed her lips. “Why?”

He rolled his eyes. “What are you? The police? Can I use your fire escape or not?”

She wanted to keep saying no just to irritate him. _That_ was the sort of reaction that man triggered out of her. She wanted to nag and nag and poke and poke until he exploded because he _infuriated_ her.

In the end, she stepped aside and waved him in. After all, if he wanted to risk his life instead of doing the sensible thing, who was she to stop him? “Be my guest.”

She tried not to notice the way he curiously looked around when she allowed him in. He didn’t say anything but she could see her decoration just confirmed a lot of assumptions for him. She didn’t let it get to her. Sure she loved bright colors and most people were shocked by the sunny yellow in her open kitchen, the baby pink in the living-room or the apple green in the bathroom but that was how she liked things.

“Bedroom window.” She supplied when he actually _stopped_ to look around like the rude man he was.

“I know.” He snorted. “Our places are reversed.” And with that _wonderful_ explanation, he headed straight to her bedroom only to pause when he caught sight of the crimson painted walls. “Are you _really_ a hooker, sweetheart?”

“Do _not_ pet name me.” she hissed for what must have been the thousandth time since they had met. She pushed past him and opened the window, gesturing at the less than confidence-inspiring metallic platform. “Out you go.” His lips twitched but he obeyed, sitting on the window’s edge and swinging his legs out. The moment he stood on the fire escape, it let out an ominous creaking sound that made her panic. “Wait! Come back. This is _not_ safe, come back. We will call a locksmith.”

There definitely _was_ a smirk on his lips now. “Why, sweetheart… I didn’t know you care…”

“I do _not_.” she huffed. “I simply do not want to be inconvenienced by construction work after you make this thing fall and you plummet to your death.”

He chuckled. That seemed to surprise him as much as it surprised her.

“It’s safe enough. Look.” He jumped a couple of times, prompting her to shriek in alarm. “Safe as houses.”

He followed the metallic platform to the window of his own bedroom. She leaned out, her upper body craned so she could see his progress – and make sure he didn’t _actually_ fall, someone _would_ have to call 911 in that case.

True to his word though, the fire escape seemed to resist well enough. He struggled a little with his window but, evidently, he was the sort of man who didn’t fear robbery and never locked it – which was stupid on _so many_ levels she actually swung her legs out so she was standing on the fire escape herself to better lecture him about it.

“You get a kick out of flashing everyone, princess?” he mocked, nodding at her chest.

She looked down at herself and then blushed crimson when she realized she was still only wearing a towel.

“Whose fault is that?” she snapped. “You were the one claiming it couldn’t wait!”

He finally got his window open and slipped back inside his own apartment, without a word of thanks or a goodbye.

_Rude man_.

He had left the window open to hurry down the corridor. After a brief moment of hesitation, she let herself in. First because she didn’t like the idea of standing on the fire escape any longer but, above all, because she was curious about what was so important it couldn’t wait half an hour or more for a locksmith.

Their apartments _were_ reversed and that man, she quickly figured out, didn’t know how to pick up after himself. His bedroom’s floor was littered with dirty clothes, she caught a glimpse of his bathroom and pursed her lips, his living-room was full of books and what surface wasn’t occupied with books was covered with dirty plates and mugs…

Not attractive at all.

And yet the smell in the air made her stomach rumble. It smelt good. _Sugary_. Everything she wasn’t allowing herself because she was on a diet. Christmas was coming quickly and it was better to anticipate that kind of things.

She wasn’t ready for what she found in the kitchen though.

He was pulling a plate of cookies out of the oven, fanning them with a dishwater cloth to get rid of the smoke… The cookies were a shade too brown but it seemed they hadn’t burned yet.

“You bake?” she asked, completely shocked. She hadn’t seen _that_ one coming.

He tossed her an annoyed look. Clearly, he had heard her trespassing because he didn’t startle. “So?”

He barked it like a challenge, like it was a comment on his virility or whatever crap the TV was feeding males those days.

She took in the mess on the kitchen counter and the frosting ready to go. “Oh, are those Christmas cookies? I _love_ Christmas cookies…” She sauntered closer to take a better look at them. They didn’t look too bad. “If you do the decorating just right, you might not even notice they are overdone…”

“You’re an expert in baking, now?” he grumbled, putting them down on the island.

“Not at all. I do not touch a stove if I can help it.” she hummed, spotting the numerous cookbooks on the shelves. It wasn’t all baking… “Oh, do you cook too? _How lovely_. I wish I was better at it but I seem to have a gift to burn everything I touch.” She slipped a book out of the shelf at random and skimmed through it. She felt his gaze on her and she looked up to find him staring. _Again_. “What is it?”

A flash of amusement passed on his face. “You don’t mind being naked in a stranger’s kitchen?”

She refused to let that fluster her. “You are not a stranger you are my very rude neighbor and I used to be a model. Nudity does not bother me. Why? Does it bother _you_?”

Besides, she _wasn’t_ naked. She adjusted her towel to make sure it was secure. It hid everything it needed to. The only thing that chagrined her a little was the fact she didn’t have any make-up on her face. And the damp twisted towel on her head _couldn’t_ look too good.

Not that she cared.

He was just the rude neighbor.

A rude neighbor who could apparently cook.

“Does it bother me to have a gorgeous woman naked in my kitchen?” he scoffed. “I’m gonna conclude that’s a rhetoric question.”

She pursed her lips to fight a smile and moved closer to inspect the cookies again. “Are you going to decorate them?”

“So interested in my _fucking_ cookies…” he muttered. “You want one?”

It was offered awkwardly, as if he wasn’t entirely sure how to properly extend that kind of civility.

“Oh, no, I _couldn’t_ possibly…” she regretfully refused, pouting a little. “Calories. But I do love decorating Christmas cookies… So pretty, you know?”

He blinked at her again as if she was a mystery he was considering solving and then rolled his eyes, waving at everything he had readied. “Knock yourself out.”

He sat down on a bar stool at the kitchen island. Apparently, he meant to let her do all the work. Well… The joke was on him because she _did_ like decorating Christmas cookies. She and Portia spent entire evenings doing that around Christmas…

She should probably go get dressed before starting but she sort of enjoyed the way he was looking at her, which was a dangerous game she shouldn’t have been playing… He didn’t even try to hide the fact he was ogling her. And why would he? She was the one who insisted on standing half-naked in his kitchen.

“Your apartment is not at all what I expected.” she remarked after a minute of comfortable silence.

“Yeah?” He snorted. “It sure doesn’t look like the candy box you’ve got going on your side of the wall…”

She wasn’t sure if he had meant that to be insulting but she actually quite liked the comparison. _Candy box_. There were worse things. Her family’s house was all white and glass, no colors at all… She would rather live in a candy box.

“I expected less books and more bottles.” she answered. Because he was often drunk. Often enough that she suspected he had a problem with liquor.

“Yeah, well…” He made a face. “I’m sober right now. Probably won’t last long. Never does.”

He shrugged as if to dismiss it, as if it was just the way it was.

The fatalism made her frown. “You should not think like that. Sobriety is a process.”

“And what would a princess like you know about sobriety?” he mocked.

“I have a pills addiction.” The truth slipped out. Which was odd because she never admitted that much out loud and certainly never to strangers. “Sleeping pills. I haven’t touched one in five years.”

That shut him up.

He was giving her that look again. Like she was a mystery.

It was a nice change from when he looked at her like she was a nuisance.

“Anyway.” She cleared her throat. “You should not have a negative mindset. If you convince yourself you will relapse, you _will_.” She licked her lip and did the stupid thing. “Baking is a good distraction but distractions do not always work… Sometimes you need someone to remind you you can do this.” She remembered Portia and Seneca holding her hands through the worst of it and she wondered if he had someone who could do that for him. “You could always come to me, you know. If you feel like having a drink. I know what it is like. We could bake or watch a movie or… _Something_. Until the craving fades to something manageable again.”

She didn’t dare look at him.

They were strangers.

They didn’t like each other.

What was she even _doing_?

But she liked the way he was watching her. There was lust in there but, above all, it was calm, measured… Like he was _seeing_ her and not just…

She truly needed to put on clothes.

She felt naked.

Not the fun kind of naked.

She abandoned the cookies and wiped her hands on the dishcloth, looking everywhere but at him. “I should go. I am going out with friends tonight. I will be late.”

She fled more than she walked to the front door, a bit surprised to hear his footsteps following her. She didn’t think he was the kind who walked people back to the door.

“Could cook for you, sometimes.” he offered awkwardly before she could disappear into her apartment. “You know… If you’re tired of your take-out _shit_.”

“Language.” she snapped without truly meaning to. It was a reflex. “Yes. Yes, I would like that.”

She closed the door, wondering what had just happened. 

**Author's Note:**

> And it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship XD I hope you enjoyed this! Please let me know!


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